Synthetic Beauty (re-posted)

Chapter Thirteen: Picking a Side

Chapter Thirteen: Picking a Side

Kyle walks Phoebe back through the twenty-first century corridors that lead back to the main hall. She still couldn’t remember why he would say that she would have to make a decision between Captain Smith, Tyler, and him.

            “May I show you to your room?” he asks, offering a strong arm that has the same black marks as her, but they show pictures of archers and deer.

            “Artemis?” I ask, totally setting aside his question.

            “Well, yes. I’m a hunter and a farmer. Demeter and Artemis, probably the best traits to have to survive alone,” he says, lowering his arm.

            “Why would you need to prepare for that?” Phoebe starts to make her way to one corridor when Kyle catches her arm.

            “This way, Genius,” he pulls on her, guiding her to the opposite way.

            “You didn’t answer my question,” Phoebe pulls her black hair into a ponytail.

            “Didn’t plan to,” he says, stretching his arms above his black hair.

            “Please. I want to have knowledge of what you meant. I am incredibly curious,” she says as if she is older than her age.

            “Athena? Right? That’s why you crave knowledge. I should’ve known. They should’ve said Athena’s box, not Pandora’s. That would have made a lot more sense,” he says snidly.

            “Well the Greeks couldn’t flaw any of their gods,” Phoebe smiles at her newfound knowledge. Her school had never taught her of the myths of the Greeks, but they didn’t have to.

            “Yet they did. All those acts of adultery, treason. All those acts were sins. Going against your brother…” he slows his words thoughtfully as if he were thinking about an act of treason.

            “What goes on inside your head now?” she asks as they continue on through the lit hallways.

            “Nothing…” he says, cutting the conversation off. He continues to guide her through the building without a word slipping through his mouth.

            “Can you hurry up? You’re walking at human pace and it’s annoying the crap out of me,” Phoebe interrupts the silence.

            “If we go at our normal pace we’ll miss your room,” Kyle scratches the back of his neck.

            After surveying many numbers on doors, they finally made it to her room, 527.

            “Here you are. Your royal suite,” he opens the wooden door revealing a room much smaller than her old one.

            “It’s small,” Phoebe notices.

            Kyle’s eyebrows shoot up, “Wanna check out any other rooms? I assure you they’re closets and you’d much rather keep this one. I know I would.”

            “Oh, well, thanks,” Phoebe says, entering the room. Columns hold the ceiling and create an archway to a bedroom. The kitchen obtains some weird box Phoebe had never seen before. There is also an even larger metal box with doors on them. The door slams behind Phoebe.

            “You’re still here?” Phoebe says without turning around.

            “I like to see the Pretties find out about Rustics technology. It’s amusing,” Kyle smirks, his gorgeous teeth shining bright.